Derek&Stiles Fest: Immortality
by AngstyDevil
Summary: A short drabble about the near death of Stiles and the musings of his savior, Derek Hale. Full warning inside.


A/N

Characters: Derek/Stiles. Future!slash Scott/Stiles (implied)

Length: One-shot, rather short because otherwise I'd commit suicide or curl up in a ball crying

Warnings: Extremly angsty and sad. Cursing. Abusive!Scott. Abused!Stiles. Blood, gore, sadness, self-pity/delusion. Etc.

Disclaimer: Teen wolf isn't mine

For best results read it as it was written, ie: with something like my immortal, love the way you lie (pt 1 + 2) or I need a doctor on repeat. I wrote this with all four of those songs changing back and forth whenever the mood changed even the slightest. Sorry if it's short, or not as sad as it should be because really I couldn't write it any more depressing without risking my own health...Enjoy.

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><p>Stiles sobbed openly. Afraid that if he stopped he would fall apart even more than he already was. The only thing that kept him grounded was the pain, the blood pooling from nasty gnashes on his wrist and the pain from the sobs that wracked his body kept him alive. Kept him standing up. He couldn't do this any longer. He could not stand like this and watch everything fall apart. He could not be <strong>that<strong> person again, not when he didn't even know what he'd done to deserve this. He knew though that this was his fault. He was the one that had carried Scott into the forest, he was the one that had bothered him and pestered him into going.

He was the one who had run and Scott was the one who'd gotten. He was the one who'd cried like a little baby as he dragged the boy home. He was the one who had begged god harder than anything else to save his boyfriend. He didn't care what God had to do, god freaking OWED him after he took his mother. Scott wasn't the greatest boyfriend before but after the turn things started to get out of control.

There was always the screaming and the shouting. There was always the name calling and degrading statements but once the wolf came along the pain started to become more than just emotional. The slapping came first. A shock to even him.

Stiles hadn't done ANYTHING to deserve that one. The other's he understood but that first one he knew he hadn't done anything to deserve. Scott just couldn't take the pressure of being a wolf. He understood, really he did. That's why he had stayed with him for so long. Because without him Scott couldn't handle the pressure. Without him, where would he turn that anger? His mother? The people of the town? Stiles couldn't allow that to happen, no. He was prepared to deal with these things. He'd been dealing with Scott for years and what were a few more bruises added to those from the bullies and his own father when he went off the sober-wagon?

He could deal, he would deal, but not now. Not just yet. Standing there in the middle of his room, bleeding from the fucking SLASHES that Scott had left in his wrists he knew that his face was a mess of blood and tears and snot and whatever the hell else he'd gotten on it. He knew that his shirt was torn and his hands were bleeding and his legs were probably shaking like he'd fall over at the slightest wind.

But he would not fall over, he would stand here and wait until he could control himself better and then he would put himself the fuck back together and right himself before his father came home. Or, at least before Scott returned. He knew that this was his fault, he couldn't believe he'd been stupid enough to chain Scott up during the full moon. He'd been stupid, he knew that Scott didn't do well with being confined and especially when it was by someone as weak and frail as Stiles himself. He knew he should have never insulted Scott with that move.

It was so stupid, but Stiles knew he'd done the best that he could. When would he be good enough to keep Scott happy? Why did he keep fucking up so badly? Really. Choking on his tears for a moment he fought to compose himself and found that he simply did not have the energy to fight the vast number of stimuli attacking his body. The pain from various still healing bruises that littered his face and back and chest, the pain of two sharp wounds down his arms and the emotional pain of having been crying for god knows how long.

God he was so fucked up. He couldn't…stand…for much longer…

Stiles collapsed and as he faded out of conscious he prayed that Scott wouldn't find him like this. This pathetic weak creature that he was.

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><p>When Derek entered the room he inhaled sharply and fought the urge to gag at the smell of alcohol, blood and stale sex. The room normally smelt faintly of these things but today it was so strong that he saw red for a moment until he composed himself. He'd come here for a reason and this just proved his suspicions.<p>

He kneeled down next to the man he'd come to love…what was he supposed to do? He couldn't fix this, he would have to do his best to fix it and it would take years upon years to undo the damage that had been done here.

He scooped the man up in his hands; he could not allow him to stay here for one second more. He knew from experience that the road to recovery would be long and hard. He could see even in his unconscious state that the boy flinched away from the merest and slightest of touches…

Picking up the love of his life in the gentlest of cradles he carried him out the window and away from the worst life he'd ever seen inflicted on someone so innocent. He would be sure to teach the boy how strong he truly was. How beautiful he was. How he'd never met anyone braver, or kinder or as amazingly intelligent as him. Derek Hale would fix Stiles even if it killed him. Because that's what you did when you loved someone…


End file.
